


It's Going to be a Good One

by GettheSalt



Series: About Holidays [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe - Domestic, Gen, M/M, New Year's Eve, Not Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-05-11 15:30:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5631616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GettheSalt/pseuds/GettheSalt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>First in the About Holidays series.</p>
<p>Grant and Leo head back to New York City to spend New Year's Eve with their old teammates at SHIELD. Sure, there's the party, and the drinking, and then there's the unwelcome minor panic about becoming dads. It's a great way to bring in the new year.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Going to be a Good One

Retiring from SHIELD wasn't an easy thing to do. There were forms upon forms that needed to be filled out, licenses and access passes that needed to be revoked and deactivated. There was the small matter of insuring that no former agent went around sharing the details of what they had learned while being with SHIELD. There was the small matter of agreeing to an agent being on surveillance for anywhere from six months to three years after retirement. People didn't retire from SHIELD easily, and the processes that had to be gone through in order to do it were more than 90% of the reason why next to no one ever did. An agent had to be extremely determined to go all the way through the process and come out on the other side. Coulson had insisted that he could count the number of agents who had gone through with it on one hand.

He needed two, now, to count that number. Leo and Grant had been nothing if not determined. They had also managed to be the only agents who retired without being of advanced age – anything over 60 was considered advanced, for a SHIELD agent – but that was probably only due to the consulting clause in their retirement contracts. SHIELD was willing to let them go, entirely, to lead civilian lives, and have civilian jobs, but SHIELD reserved the right to call on them for anything that required their expertise.

That clause also stated that both Leo and Grant had the right to refuse to consult, on a case to case basis.

And that, should they accept a consulting job, they would be paid at rates matching the ones they'd left SHIELD at.

Retiring from SHIELD really wasn't an easy process, but after months of paperwork and slowly being removed from the organization, they had managed it. Leaving New York City, they'd bought a house in the pacific northwest, and settled down, the two of them, and their dog. It had been more than a year, now, since their retirement, and moving away, and in that time period, they'd gotten married. On a cliff in Scotland, with their team, and Leo's mother present, Grant and Leo had tied the knot, adding that, too, to the growing list of domestic things they had achieved, both before and after their SHIELD retirements.

And soon, they were going to add another thing to that growing list.

“I can't believe you're going to be a dad.”

Skye's drink sloshed in her glass as she dropped onto the couch next to Grant, and he instinctively put a hand out, as though it might do some true damage if the alcohol inside went everywhere. Skye's long hair was pulled back from her face in a loose braid, trailing down her bare back. The dress that she'd worn to this party was black, form fitting, reaching from her neck to her mid-thighs, and matched the dangerous looking black shoes she was strapped into. She looked like more of a Hollywood starlet than a trained secret agent.

It was hard to believe that just a few years ago she'd been sassing him and Coulson in the Bus' cage. Skye had come a long way, too. When Coulson's team had been pulled back to New York City to become part of the SHIELD contingent there, they had all known each other for barely a few months. They'd barely finished cleaning up the incident with Donnie Gill at the SciTech Academy, and then suddenly they were being thrown into things, and Skye was being properly trained, and being given an S.O. who _wasn't_ Grant (but still spoke Russian and could still be even more of an antisocial jerk), and becoming a SHIELD agent in her own right.

She'd come a long way from the hacker in the van.

“You better believe it, because it's going to be happening. Sooner or later. He talked me into the papers, and everything. Now it's just a waiting game.” Grant answered, taking a swig of his beer. On his other side, Antoine Triplett shook his head, laughing.

“She's got a point, man. I never would have thought I'd see _you_ as a dad. But it's gonna happen, huh?”

Trip had taken over a lot of Grant's duties in New York City once he'd retired. The recruits that had been under Grant's jurisdiction were now under Trip's, following the regime that he'd laid out, inspired by training units before him. Trip was also the only one of the five younger agents who'd been a part of Coulson's team – on the Bus, or in New York – who was frequently going into the field. He would leave for weeks at a time, usually with his new partner, an Agent Palamas.

Grant tried to ignore the little wave of panic that he felt, nodding stiffly, looking across the club, trying to pick out his husband in the crowd. There were plenty of SHIELD agents in attendance. A good percentage of them, Grant knew personally. Some of them, like Carpenter, had been recruits in one of his early sets of trainees. A good number of them were now leveled agents, working towards accolades of their own. Leo had disappeared with Jemma a while ago, chatting with a few of the other SciTech agents – Kowalski and the like, it had seemed – and Grant wasn't exactly worried, but when it came to their announcement, he didn't like being alone.

Even if they'd originally made the announcement months ago.

“We're going to make him freak out, Trip.” Skye said, picking up on Grant's tenseness. She reached out, putting a hand on his arm and squeezing. “You're... pretty nervous about this, aren't you?”

Grant shot her a look.

“What?” She paused a second, and then sighed, grandly. “Okay, I wasn't going to _admit_ in front of _Trip_ that Jemma told me that Leo told her that you're freaked out about the whole dad thing, but if you're going to force me...”

It wasn't a surprise. Leo had asked if it was okay that he discussed those things with Jemma, and Grant knew that he was in no position to say no. Jemma would have picked up on it eventually. She knew Leo like the back of her hand, and if he was nervous, or upset, about Grant's trepidation, she would pick up on it. Grant had known that Jemma would tell Skye, because the four of them didn't tend to keep secrets from each other. Not anymore.

“Makes sense.” Trip commented. “Think about it, Skye. He's been super-agent for years, and from what I know, family life wasn't exactly the Bradys. That would make me freaked out about being a dad, too. How do you know what to do? What if you're no good at it? What if your kid hates you? I don't think anyone ever wants to be a bad parent.” He met Grant's eyes, nodding, and getting Grant to do the same. “Yeah. Bunch of Russian goons? Not a big problem. Raising a kid? That's scary shit.”

Grant laughed, and Skye did the same, shrugging and leaning back on the couch again.

“Okay. I see the point. But, you know...” Skye shrugged. “You did okay being my mother hen.”

Grant rolled his eyes. “I wasn't your mother hen for _that_ long.”

Skye's eyes widened and she made a small 'o' with her mouth. “You can do _zumba_ with the baby!”

“No!” Grant held up a hand, trying and failing to hide his smile. Memories of afternoons, hardly wasted, being dragged to the gym with Skye for _her_ idea of a workout, were still vivid in his mind, after all this time. “No, I don't think so.”

“Oh, just you wait.” Skye said with a knowing nod. “You're gonna do zumba with your kid, and you're gonna _love it_.”

Trip laughed, clapping Grant on the shoulder. “That's what dads do. You're gonna give in, man.”

Grant shook his head, again, firmly. “No zumba. I promised Skye I wouldn't do it with anyone but her.”

Skye took a sip of her drink, raising her hand before she spoke. “Okay, but I can make an exception to that promise if it's with my little niece. Or nephew. I mean, not picky here. I'm just telling you now, I get to be the cool aunt.”

“Does that mean I get to be the cool uncle?” Trip asked.

“What does that make Jemma?” Grant cut in.

“The smart aunt.”

Jemma's voice drew their attention immediately, and all three looked up from the couch, catching sight of both Jemma and Leo standing just a little off to the side, watching them with fond smiles.

“The smart aunt.” Grant repeated. “Sounds about right. We all know that it isn't-- hey!”

Skye screwed up her face at him, her free hand still curled into the fist she'd made to punch him. “You're hilarious. Serves you right. But, sure, Jem can be the smart aunt.” She grinned up at Jemma, batting her eyelashes. Jemma smiled back, after blowing her a kiss.

“Well, I know when I've become a fifth wheel.” Trip said, getting to his feet. “I'm gonna go get another drink. See if I can find Kara in here somewhere.”

“Oh, we saw her over by the, um.” Leo pointed, clearly unsure what to describe the piece of modern art planted in the middle of the dance floor as. “That thing. She was over there talking to Bobbi when we left.”

“Thanks, guys. See you for the countdown?”

There were scattered agreements, and nodded heads, and Trip disappeared into the press of dancing people, leaving the four of them alone. Leo filled in his spot, leaning against Grant's side and reaching for his beer. He gave it up easily, watching his husband take a hearty sip, before taking the bottle back.

“Thirsty?”

“Shouldn't be.” Leo smiled up at him. “I've had _plenty_ to drink.”

Jemma made a scoffing noise, and Grant looked over at her, perched on the arm of the couch next to Skye. “Not nearly as much as he's making it seem like. I've had much more to drink.”

Leo rolled his eyes, and opened his mouth to argue, but Skye beat him to it by inviting Jemma to the dance floor. The two of them left, with assurances that they would see them at the countdown, and if not, they'd meet up at 11 the next morning in Leo and Grant's hotel lobby for brunch. May and Coulson would be joining them, along with Trip. A team brunch, for old times sake.

It wasn't often that they got to do those things anymore. With Leo and Grant retired, yes, they had more free time, but they couldn't be flying across the country whenever the fancy struck them – even with their substantial savings – and it was rare that the others had the same abundance of free time. They had needed to make their visits work, and, this year, the only time they could all get together around the holidays had happened to be New Year's. It had also happened to be a time when Grant and Leo were more than happy to fly across the country to be with their friends. They would be leaving, first thing on the 3rd, to be back for work – Grant with the FBI training facility and Leo in NASA's satellite office - but, for the next few days, they would be in the city, seeing the sights and catching up with their old team, old friends and old coworkers.

Leo settled against Grant's side, watching the people around them. Grant could tell when his husband was smashed, and this wasn't one of those times. Pleasantly buzzed, yes, and absolutely tipsy, for sure, but he wasn't even close to not being in his right mind. Once they were left on their own, that became even more obvious, in the way he cuddled into Grant's side, and picked at a loose thread on his suit jacket.

“I'm nervous, too.”

If it wasn't for how close they were, Grant probably wouldn't have heard Leo over the music playing in the club. Given that Leo was pressed against his side, though, those words would have been hard for Grant to miss. Looking down, he found Leo watching him with much more alertness than he would have expected.

The middle of a New York City club, surrounded by drunk and drinking agents, was not the place for them to have this conversation.

Thankfully, their hotel was right upstairs.

“Come on,” Grant coaxed, getting to his feet. Leo didn't hesitate before doing the same, following along, letting Grant cut their path through the crowd, until they were exiting the club, and breathing cool air again. It was almost a relief to be out of the club, and heading for the elevators.

Grant pushed the button to call one, and turned to Leo, brushing his thumb over the other's knuckles. “I think I'm getting old. I can't handle clubs as well as I used to.”

Leo rolled his eyes, tugging Grant forward as the elevator doors opened. “Yeah, you're getting old. Because you were _so_ into clubs just a few years ago.”

Grant made a face that clearly said 'you've got a point', before pushing the button for their floor, and settling into the elevator car, letting Leo lean in against his side. Old or no, it was obvious to him that both of them felt better being out of the club. Especially with what was weighing on their minds. Their first near adoption had happened only a few weeks before, just ahead of Thanksgiving, and they had both taken it hard. They wanted to do this, and Leo had managed to talk Grant into accepting that he could, even if he was scared. That first rejection had stung. It hadn't even really been a rejection; the mother had changed her mind about giving the baby away, and these things happened.

Something about that whole event had rekindled Grant's worries, though, and it seemed that somehow, by him worrying again, Leo had finally begun to really feel that concern and anxiety.

Their hotel room was the way they'd left it; both of their suitcases were flipped open on the low dresser under the mounted television, Grant's clothes from the day tossed on top, Leo's spread across the foot of the bed. He picked those up and tossed them at his bag while Grant shrugged off his suit jacket, hanging it up in the closet. Leo dropped his on the arm of the couch and sat down, waiting until Grant joined him before he seemed to breathe again. They were sitting close enough that they were pressed together from hip to knee, but Leo didn't reach for his hand, instead keeping his bunched together in his lap. A quick glance over and Grant could see him worrying at his lip.

“So,” he started. “You're nervous, too.”

Leo looked up and rolled his eyes. “Of course I'm nervous. I have been since... Before you even agreed to this, Grant.” It was short, and a little snappy, but Grant didn't take offense. He couldn't. This whole process was trying, and heavy, and hard. More so since the rejection had happened. They'd gone to all the trouble of getting themselves excited and ready, and had known that it could blow up, but never actually counted on it. Now that it had, it seemed that everything they'd kept bottled up was causing a lot of stress.

Unsurprisingly. Grant was sure Jemma and Skye would agree.

“I know.”

Leo smiled, a little tight, and nodded. “I didn't mean to snap. I just feel like I've been doing so well, and the last few weeks, it's starting to become _if_ we even get to adopt _will_ I be a good parent? The most I was worrying about before was the second part. And now... I mean, I know, it's stupid, and so many other couples wait so much longer, but I never really realized how much it would hurt.” He swallowed, and reached over for Grant's hand, twining their fingers together. “Not to mention, how to agents be parents?”

Grant laughed. “We're not agents any more.”

“Point.” Leo agreed, looking up from their hands with a grin that reached his eyes. The sight of it made Grant's chest loosen, a bit of the worry gone. “But... We really need to start reading those parenting books I got. Make sure we are ready for every eventuality.”

“The books aren't going to cover every eventuality, nerd.” Grant teased, leaning in to press their foreheads together. Leo snorted, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. Away from the club and the party, they were both more relaxed. It wasn't that it wasn't good to see everyone, because it was. But with so much weighing on their minds, lately, the noise and the press had felt like too much. It was piling too much on top of their already stressed minds. Here, in their hotel room, with the distant thump of the party far below them, and the lights of the city cold outside the big windows, it was easier to breathe, and pull themselves back together.

“No, but I'll feel better if I have a book to consult about the whole thing.” Leo opened his eyes, pulling back enough to meet Grant's. “And you're just as much of a nerd as me, because don't think I _haven't_ already caught you with your nose stuck in them. You want the books for reassurance just as much as I do.”

Grant grinned, and shrugged. “Guilty as charged.” He admitted. He'd originally thought that the books were Leo's peace offering, his way of extending a hand to Grant to help him prepare for the undertaking they had both agreed to. Now, he understood they were a security blanket for both of them, and that almost made him like them more. He was already a big fan of the books he had skimmed through, for teaching him things he never would have guessed. Knowing that they gave, or would give, Leo the same peace of mind just rose them higher in his esteem.

“See, Skye and Jemma, they're here, in New York, worrying about Rumlow, and all those types. You and I? This is the domestic shit that we're worrying about. Sometimes, I think it was easier having my collarbone dislocated and ending up blacked out in the med bay.”

“Not for me, it wasn't.” Leo pointed out, and though he was still smiling, there was an edge of seriousness in his tones, and in his eyes. Grant didn't miss it, and nodded, which was all the reassurance Leo seemed to need. “Besides, Grant... We _are_ married.”

“Another good point.” Grant agreed, looking around the room. He was much more at ease, now, and being alone with Leo, knowing he was doing better too, was good. Especially in this hotel room. It wasn't often that they got out like this, any more, and while Grant wouldn't trade their house, and their bedroom, for anything, this was nice.

It was also helping to set the atmosphere for what Grant expected would really help Leo forget about what was worrying him.

“You know what married couples do on New Year's Eve?” Grant asked. He waited for Leo to meet his eyes again before lifting his hand, kissing his palm gently, right over the scar left from Leo's run-in with Madame Masque. The message was received, Leo's eyes widening while he took in a long, slow breath. Then his fingers were wrapping around Grant's tie and pulling him in.

“You know how to get my mind off things.” Leo muttered, lips brushing his. Grant felt his hands settling at his belt buckle, pulling it loose, wasting no time, and smiled.

“It's usually effective.” He agreed, and kissed Leo, slow, drawing him in until Leo parted his lips, sighing softly.

Grant's hands had worked his tie loose, his fingers undoing all the buttons in his dress shirt. He was working on Leo's belt when Leo pulled back, asking quietly, “Right here?”

Grant nodded, and Leo grinned, leaving the couch for a second to grab something from his bag, and slide his pants and boxers off. He was left in his undone dress shirt and black socks, grinning wickedly while he pressed a small tube into Grant's hand, and bent to tug his pants down, freeing him up, fingers careful and slow, pulling down the waistband of his boxers.

“And I don't have to be quiet.” He breathed, climbing into Grant's lap, hands braced on his shoulders. “Everyone's downstairs. _Far_ downstairs...”

“Don't you dare be quiet.” Grant ordered, reaching up to pull him down for a kiss. It was harder than the others, more insistent, and Leo made a small sound, fingers clenching tight at Grant's shoulders, settling in his lap with the smallest little roll of his hips.

It was like they hadn't been worried about anything, the further they sunk into each other. Grant couldn't reconcile the concerned look he'd seen on Leo's face only ten minutes before with the look of bliss the other was wearing while he worked his slicked fingers inside him, letting Leo rock himself slow. He couldn't remember that just shortly before, Leo had been snapping at him about being nervous, when Leo was twisting his fingers in Grant's shirt and whining, “ _Fuck me._ ”

And Leo wasn't quiet. Grant wouldn't have wanted him to be, wanted to hear him while he bounced up and down on his cock, gripping his shirt tight enough that Grant was sure it would rip, eyes shut tight, gasping Grant's name.

“Ohh, _fuck_ , I needed you.” Grant growled, digging his fingers into Leo's hips, holding on to him while he moved in his lap. Leo groaned, opening his eyes, and looking down, struggling to focus.

“This? Ohh, fuck, Grant.” Leaning forward, Leo forced Grant to tip his head back, kissing him open and sloppy. “This is so _good_.”

Leo didn't need to say it for Grant to know. Grant could watch him, watch every reaction on his face, hear him whine, and push himself down, smiling loosely while he rolled his hips, settled in Grant's lap, Grant's cock buried deep inside. He didn't need Leo to tell him it was good, when Leo's fingers scrabbled to hold on to his shirt and he needed to hold on to him to keep him grounded. Leo didn't need to say it was good, when he lost his rhythm, tugging Grant into a bruising kiss, whimpering and shaking while he broke, coming all over Grant's shirt.

And Grant didn't need to tell Leo how good it was when he leaned back, still shaking, riding Grant's cock, urging him on.

“Come on, Grant. Come for me, babe.”

Dimly, Grant thought he could hear a countdown.

“Let go, Grant.”

Grant's hands pulled Leo in, holding him by his elbows, hard, trying not to hold him too tight that he couldn't still move, coaxing Grant through it while he was leaned forward on the couch, shuddering, groaning his husband's name while he came, Leo working fingers through his sweaty hair. He let him catch his breath, working his arms free of Grant's grip to circle them around his shoulders, guiding him back to sag against the couch, light kisses pressing almost lazy against his temple.

“They're cheering.” He whispered, and Grant frowned, trying to work out what the hell he could possibly be talking about, before he made it out, over the pounding of his own heart.

Many, many floors beneath them, the crowd at the party was cheering, yelling. Ringing in the new year, while Grant had Leo sat in his lap, the two of them grinning and spent.

Laughing, he turned to catch Leo's lips in a quick, chaste kiss. “Happy New Year.”

Leo smiled, shifting in his lap until they were both more comfortable, and he could look down at Grant, cheeks still flushed, eyes still dark, breath just barely caught.

“Happy New Year.” He said, voice husky, and quiet, his words only for Grant. “It's going to be a good one. I can feel it.”

 


End file.
